


Dream A Little Dream

by StarSpangledBucky



Series: BeckWatney [4]
Category: The Martian (2015), The Martian - All Media Types, The Martian - Andy Weir
Genre: Angst, Based on a Tumblr Post, Car Accidents, Emotional, Emotions, Established Relationship, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Near Death, Tears, Why Do I Always End Up Writing Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 19:57:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5388311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarSpangledBucky/pseuds/StarSpangledBucky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris is involved in a serious car accident, leaving his life in the hands of the doctors. Mark isn’t so sure what to do in that moment expect hope Chris pulls through. Because Mark still has something important to ask him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dream A Little Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a Tumblr post to pick a number and a pairing. BeckWatney and number 7. “I almost lost you.”

“It’s been two years since I was rescued from Mars and I’m still getting called up for interviews,” Watney sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall.

He was sitting backstage with Vogel and Martinez, waiting to be called on stage for an interview on a live talk show. It was one of the many interviews he still had to attend to even two years on from being rescued. Apparently, everybody was just so fascinated with his story, they wanted more and more, and Watney tried but couldn’t say no. Beck supported him through every interview, telling him he’d be great. However, today was one of those days where Beck wasn’t going to be there, but he’d left his and Watney’s home with a few encouraging words. Watney was fitted with a mic for when he went on stage, Vogel and Martinez having theirs fitted at that precise moment.

“You’re basically famous now Mark, everybody wants to hear your story,” Martinez said.

“I feel like I’ve told the whole world my story now,” Watney replied. “But I’m glad you two are here, you had as much involvement in the rescue as the rest of the crew did. I don’t get why it only has to be me doing interviews half the time,” he added.

“Chris would sit with a stubborn look on his face,” Vogel commented.

“ _Ha-ha,_  he’s not that bad, he can smile and laugh. He’s just stubborn when he’s annoyed with something, or someone,” Watney scoffed.

“I think he’ll smile on Saturday though,” Martinez interjected.

“What’s happening on Saturday?” Vogel questioned.

“I’m proposing to Chris,” Watney mused.

“Really? A proposal!” Vogel exclaimed.

Watney kicked Vogel lightly in the shin with a hard stare as Martinez dropped his head into his hand.

“Not so loud, I don’t want the whole world to know,” Watney huffed. “But I think it’s about time. I love Chris that much to spend my life with him,” he added.

“I’m sure he’ll say yes,” Martinez said, clapping his hand on Watney’s shoulder.

“I hope it goes well,” Vogel replied.

“Thanks, both of you. I’ve been planning it for a while,” Watney chimed, relaxing back into his seat.

“Are you going to tell us?” Martinez asked.

“Hell no, I’ll let Chris tell you the story when it happens,” Watney answered.

“Excuse me, you’re all on in three minutes,” the backstage manager informed.

The trio stood up from their seats as they walked over to the curtains that were parted for them to see out onto the set. A host sat on the plush leather sofa, Watney had forgotten her name, not that he really wanted to remember. After doing so many interviews he started to not remember names and settled for just answering the questions as best he could. He jolted a little when he felt Martinez’s hand on his shoulder again, his eyes falling on the host again.

_“We have three very special guests today, three extraordinary astronauts from the Ares 3 crew, Rick Martinez, Alex Vogel and Mark Watney!“_

He hadn’t missed the screaming, that’s for sure, because sometimes it’s too much. But he deals with it anyway and walks out onto the stage with a smile on his face and a small wave to the crowd. Watney did adore fans, especially the kids, they always said they wanted to be just like him when they grew up. He’d always said he’d love to be a father, to teach them about space, to tell them the story about how he survived on Mars. Yet the best part of that dream of his that he wanted Beck to be a part of it too. The very thought of his boyfriend,  _possibly fiancé,_  holding a squirming little football warmed Watney’s heart.

“Thank you for taking some time out of your day to join us here,” the host, known as Jen spoke.

“It’s great to be here, thank you for having us,” Watney said, grinning widely until his cheeks started hurting.

“Now I’m sorry I have to ask this straight off the bat, Mark, are you still seeing someone. Any changes?” Jen tested.

 _Oh here we go_  he thought. 

“Yes, sorry ladies…and gents. I am still seeing someone. I’m still seeing Dr Chris Beck,” he issued.

“Is it love?” Jen continued.

“Of course it is, we’ve been dating for two years. I’m in love with him, very much,” he uttered.

 _God,_  he hated the relationship questions like he was in some pool for women or men to pick out a person at random. Or like he was being auctioned off as a potential romantic partner.

“Are there wedding bells on the way? Kids maybe?” Jen quizzed.

“Are we discussing my time on Mars here or are we just having a discussion on my love life? Because if we are there’s not really any point in inviting two of my crew members for an interview if they aren’t going to be involved,” Mark sniped, his jaw clenching afterwards.

“Hey, it’s okay man,” Martinez whispered, resting his hand on Mark’s shoulder for the third time.

“No it’s not, I’m not giving them the nitty gritty of my relationship with Chris for their enjoyment,” Watney hissed.

_“Ma'am! Ma'am, please you are unauthorised to be on stage!”_

Everybody’s gazes fell to the backstage entrance where Johanssen was seen rushing out from, her skin deathly pale. Watney sat up straighter on the sofa, his brow creasing in confusion, considering she was supposed to be with Beck. She stopped before Watney after telling the host to back away, her red rimmed eyes more prominent now.

“Beth? What’s wrong?” Vogel asked.

“Mark, you have to come with me now,” she choked out, wiping a stray tear from her cheek.

“We’re in the middle of an interview,” Watney murmured.

“Mark please,” Johanssen pleaded.

“I can’t just up and leave we-” Watney paused, seeing Johanssen’s eyes welling with tears again.

“Mark…Chris has been in a car accident, it’s serious,” she wavered.

Watney’s eyes widened as he stared at Johanssen, his lips parting even though no words came out, his body tensing. His heart rate jumped as the sounds around him began to drown out, head swimming with every negative thought that hit him.  _No, no, no_  he thought, before he started yanking at the microphone on his clothes, pulling it off his shirt and grabbing the whole thing before throwing it down onto the sofa. He felt sick and he couldn’t breathe, he may as well have passed out if anything. Johanssen’s words were still etched into his mind, part of him wanting to think it was a dream, the other half knowing that it wasn’t even close to a dream. It was a mystery as to how his emotions could switch from being happy, until a few simple words sent it all crashing down.

“I-I’m sorry I have to go, Vogel and Martinez can answer questions. I have to-I need-” he rambled, before falling silent.

Johanssen looped her arm through his and guided him away from the stage, much to the protest of the crowd and the host. When they were backstage, the manager was glaring at her like she’d committed murder. Which is something she wasn’t going to stand for.

“His boyfriend has been in a serious car accident, so if you have any sympathy in you, you’ll let us leave,” she spat.

The manager stepped aside as Johanssen pushed the exit door open and ushered Watney outside into the car park. His legs gave out as he stumbled a little, only to be held up by Johanssen who tightened her hold around his waist.

“Come on Mark, just a little further,” she encouraged.

“What happened?” he asked. “What happened?” he repeated, his voice pained and choked up. 

“I’ll explain when we get there, so you know what you’re walking into,” she soothed.

“Please tell me he’s still alive…please,” he said, swallowing back the lump in his throat.

“He’s still alive,” Johanssen assured him.

She helped Watney into the car and closed the door, before rushing around to the driver’s side. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking considering she was the one who had witnessed the accident. Watney looked over at her and saw the tremble in her hands, his hand coming up to rest on hers.

“Beth, are you okay?” he queried. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

Truthfully, she wasn’t, and it wasn’t going to get any better when Watney saw just how serious Beck’s condition was. 

* * *

Watney felt so numb he couldn’t even feel as to where his steps were taking him. Johanssen was walking with him on his right, wiping a few tears from her eyes which she hadn’t been able to hold in any longer. They walked through the automatic doors into the lobby, seeing the chairs filled with patients. It appeared to be a very busy day in the ER, but Watney only wanted to see how Beck was doing. Johanssen guided him down a hallway, her hand placed on his back, rubbing up and down comfortingly because she knew he wasn’t going to like what he saw. If anything, she was worried about Watney’s reaction. 

“We’re here Mark,” she said, dropping her hand as she stood by the window of the room.

It took Watney a moment to gain any sense of reality, his head tilting up as he stared at Johanssen, before looking into the room. Beck was lying flat on the hospital bed, various tubes and wires joined to himself and countless machines. His face was covered in cuts and bruises, skin pale, as if he was already dead. Yet the soft sound of the heart monitor was a clear enough sign that he was alive, he was stable. Blood was still stained all over Beck’s clothes that hadn’t been disposed of yet, his body covered in even more bruises.

Watney stumbled back and fell onto a chair on the other side of the hallway, his head dropping into his hands as a sob spilled from his throat. He couldn’t begin to imagine what kind of internal injuries Beck might have, the very thought made him cry even harder. Johanssen sat down beside him and wrapped her arm around him, pulling Watney into her side to comfort him. Watney’s cries echoed down the hallway as his body shook violently, denial washing over him. 

“What happened?” he sobbed.

“Mark I don’t know if-” Johanssen stopped, upon seeing Watney raise his head.

“What happened!” he yelled, closing his eyes as he swallowed thickly and ran his hand down his face. “Sorry…I’m sorry,” he apologised, dropping his shaking hands onto his knees. “Please tell me what happened,” he pleaded.

Johanssen took a deep breath and leaned into Watney’s side more, finding it as a sense of comfort after everything she saw.

“Chris was driving in front of me while I went to pick up a package. We were on a long stretch of road and a few cars passed us on the way. Some guy drove up behind me in his flashy sports car and tried to get by me because I was apparently going to slow. I was sticking to the speed limit, so was Chris. But this guy was just…he was an idiot. He overtook me but didn’t check to see if there were cars coming the other way, and there was so he swerved to get out of the way. He’d been driving too fast, he crashed into Chris, the car spun off the road and hit a tree. The guy in the other car tried to gain control but his car flipped and crashed into a barrier. I pulled over as soon as I saw Chris’ car hit the tree and I ran to see him. He-” she paused, shaking her head. “He wasn’t moving and I thought he was dead, but I felt for a pulse and he still had one, thank god. But he was a mess Mark, and he was trapped in there. The car door had to get cut off. Chris looked a lot worse than he does now, there was so much blood and glass and…it was horrible,” she explained.

Watney nodded as he clenched his jaw, his left hand balling into a fist.

“Where’s the driver, I’m going to fucking murder him for this,” he growled.

“He’s dead…” Johanssen replied.

“Oh…shit,” he breathed out.

“He died at the scene. Because he wasn’t wearing his seatbelt, so he got thrown from the car,” Johanssen murmured.

“Oh Beth, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry it must have been terrible to see. Fuck, come here you’re shaking,” Watney crowed, embracing her warmly.

“He’ll be okay you know that, he’s a fighter,” she choked, scrubbing away the new tears.

“I know he will. I’m betting on it, he has to,” Watney said.

Suddenly, alarms were sounding inside the room, alerting the pair as they hurried over to the window. Two doctors came running down the hallway a nurse following soon after as they shouted orders at each other. Watney dared to steal a glance inside to see Beck’s body seizing and thrashing on the bed, a fresh wave of tears pooling in his eyes.

“No, no!” he shouted, slamming his fist on the glass.

“Mark stop!” Johanssen exclaimed.

“He can’t die! He can’t, he can’t!” he cried out, dropping down to his knees.

_“He’s crashing!"_

_"Get him on his side!”_  

The sounds were too much, the shouting, the alarms, the erratic beeping from the heart monitor. Watney clutched his hands to his head as he turned around and lent back against the wall. He tried to inhale deep breaths to calm himself but nothing was working. His mind wondered why of all the people, why it had to be Beck that this happened to.

_“Put him flat on his back we need to defib!"_

_"Charging!"_

He could hear Johanssen calling him but Watney couldn’t speak, he couldn’t think. 

_"I’ll see you after my interviews,"_

Watney didn’t want to lose Beck now, they still had their whole lives ahead of them.

_"That’s the ring, that’s the one,"_

His life would be a mess without Beck.

_"I love you,"_

_"I love you too, bossy,”_  

The next sound from the heart monitor almost made Watney’s heart stop.

_“I’m going to ask Chris to marry me,"_

Watney stared at the floor as tears still rolled down his cheeks, a shaky gasp brushing past his lips.

_"You’re the greatest botanist to ever walk the Earth, and I’m proud of you,"_

Beck’s heartbeat flat-lined.

* * *

Six hours passed before Watney made his way back to the hospital. He thought Beck had died on that hospital bed until the doctors kept on fighting to get his heartbeat going again. And it did, much to Watney and Johanssen’s relief, the pair of them thanking the doctors profusely for saving Beck’s life. Beck wasn’t exactly out of the woods, as far as Watney knew. All he knew was that any chance of him going into cardiac arrest again was minimal. Watney made sure Johanssen arrived home safe, before borrowing her car and heading back to the hospital.

Watney would be allowed to see Beck then, so he took a shower and dressed into more comfortable, casual clothing. His fingers smoothed over the red velvet box in his pocket as he approached the doors to the ER. The nurse at the desk gave him a small smile, which he returned, before going to the end of the hallway to the elevator, considering Beck had been moved to the floor above. He thought back to the conversation he had in the car with Johanssen, knowing that his choice was  _exactly_  what he wanted to do.

_"You’re going to propose to him if he’s awake?"_

_"If he’s awake, I am. Today has been a wake up call Beth. I nearly lost him today, if I did I would suffer for a long time because I want to spend the rest of my life with Chris,”_

_“I’m sure he’ll say yes even though you’re proposing in a hospital,"_

_"I’ll still do it all again on Saturday, because I can’t cancel what I had planned. But I don’t want to hold it off now. I’m doing it now,"_

He let his head fall back against the elevator wall, eyes falling closed as he breathed out deeply. Watney was hoping Beck was fit enough to be awake, he just wanted to talk to him, kiss him, and protect him. Well, he’d try his  _damn_  best to protect him after the events of today. He still felt so numb from hours ago, the dull ache of panic and heartache still lingering, his hands still slightly shaky, even the one holding the ring box. The elevator came to a halt before Watney stepped out and walked down to the last room on the right. He looked inside to see that the room was clear of any doctors and nurses, Beck resting up on pillows now.

Some of the tubing and wires were gone, which was a good sign for Watney, considering the breathing tubes were substituted for a nasal cannula instead. He pushed the door open quietly, his steps light on the floor as he closed the door behind him. The heart monitor beeped away with a steady rhythm, one that was relieving for Watney, on account of what he’d heard earlier. Watney stopped by the side of the bed, looking down at Beck who had his head turned to the right. He’d at least been cleaned up, the flakes of blood gone, the cuts bandaged or stitched up. But the bruises still remained, a sickly purple and yellow, some looking almost black. 

"Oh Chris, babe, look at you,” Mark wavered. “Why did this have to happen to you?” he asked, to nobody.

His hand rested on Beck’s chest, before moving up as his thumb brushed against the younger man’s cheek. He looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling at a normal rate, the sound of his breathing just audible over the heart monitor. Watney bit down on his lip as he carded his fingers through Beck’s hair, pushing a few strands from his face. A tear slid down his cheek while his bottom lip trembled before he burst into tears again, dropping his head down onto Beck’s chest.

“I thought you were dead,” he choked out. “You’re so lucky baby, so lucky,” he added, gently clutching the fabric of the hospital gown Beck was wearing. 

The older man lifted his head and entwined his fingers with Beck’s, peppering kisses across his knuckles as he pulled the chair up next to the bed. Watney put the red box on the table beside the bed, clasping his boyfriend’s hand with both of his before dropping more kisses to his knuckles. He closed his eyes as more tears slowly crawled out from the corner of his eyes, his breath hitching at every inhale he took from his shaky cries. 

“I love you. I love you so much Chris. Please, please, be okay. Be okay for me, we aren’t finished yet, you and I. We’ve still got so many things to do,” he soothed. “I left an interview to come and see you. Because you’re the most important person in my life Chris. I’m so sorry this happened to you because of some careless driver. But you need to make it through this. I need my bossy Chris, I need you. I need to ask you an important question,” he confessed, dropping his forehead against Beck’s hand.

_“Unngh,"_

Watney’s head shot up, eyes widening a fraction at the sight of Beck’s eyes twitching before opening sluggishly. He blinked a few times at the harsh light and the bright whites of the walls and ceiling, brow creasing as an ebbing pain shot up his side. Beck groaned and turned his head further to the right, his gaze meeting Watney’s. A weak smile curved up at the corner of his mouth, his eyes weary with drowsiness.

"Hey,” he croaked out.

“Chris,” Watney gasped, his grip tightening on the younger man’s hand. “Hey bossy,” he chuckled, his voice watery as happy tears fell from his eyes.

“Why are you crying babe? Why does my head hurt?” Beck drawled, shifting to sit up.

“Hey, hey, stay down baby. You’re in the hospital, you were in an accident,” Watney uttered.

“The hos- _oh god,_ ” Beck said, head falling back against the pillows. “Oh my god, there was a speeding driver and a tree and I-I blacked out,” he added.

“You got hurt pretty badly. They said you might not have made it, you nearly died on the bed, cardiac arrest, but they saved you. The doctors saved you,” Watney hummed, kissing Beck’s hand for the fiftieth time. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Beck rasped, closing his eyes as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to be sorry handsome. It wasn’t your fault,” his boyfriend assured him.

Beck nodded languidly, his grip tightening a little on Watney’s hand.

“I almost lost you,” Watney sighed, squeezing Beck’s hand, his voice strained.

“What exactly happened to me?” he questioned.

“You had internal bleeding, but they’ve got you through the worst of that. Four of your ribs are cracked. You’ve got some cuts and bruises and a bit of whiplash. They thought you might have had a punctured lung, but that was negative. You’re better than you were. Earlier you were so close to death, Chris I was so scared,” Watney breathed. “I rushed here when Beth came to get me at my interview. I couldn’t stay there, I had to be with you,” he continued, stroking his thumb over Beck’s knuckles.

Another small smile crossed Beck’s face as he rested his head further into the pillows. His eyes fell on the red box sitting by his bed, his left eyebrow raising in curiosity.

“What’s that?” he queried.

Watney’s grin widened on his face as he pulled out his phone and flicked through his music playlist, before sitting it down. Beck let out a breathy laugh as he heard  _Dream A Little Dream Of Me_  playing through the speaker, a light shade of pink crossing his cheeks.

“I didn’t take you for the romantic type babe,” he scoffed.

“Get used to it,” Watney snickered, before picking up the box and holding it in his hands. 

“Don’t leave me hanging here Watney,” the younger man mumbled.

“Patience Beck, patience,” the older man huffed.

With a big, deep breath, Watney held the box up a little and opened it up from the top, revealing a silver band with a blue ring around the middle. Beck’s eyes widened as his hand came up to cover his mouth, his cheekbones rising to indicate that he was smiling.

“Really?” he gasped shakily, blinking a few tears away.

“Chris Beck, my favourite bossy doctor in the whole world. Will you marry me?” Watney asked.

“Yes. Yes of course I will,” he answered, dropping his hand into his lap.

“Fuck yes! I’m getting married!” Watney cheered, standing up from the chair as he lent down and kissed his fiancé tenderly, feeling Beck’s fingers rake into his hair. 

“I love you so much,” Beck said, his voice wavering as he started crying harder.

“Hey, aw, shh baby, don’t cry,” Watney murmured, taking Beck’s left hand to slip the ring onto his finger. “Look at that, it’s perfect,” he commented.

“It’s amazing Mark, I love it. I love you. You’re the best. God I love you babe, so, so much,” Beck gushed.

Watney snorted and kissed Beck again, caressing his thumb over Beck’s cheek.

“I think the morphine is working on you now,” he chuckled.

“No I’m just-okay maybe…Mark, you’re the sexiest botanist ever,” Beck drawled, lazily trailing his fingers down Watney’s cheek and jaw. “God you’re so hot. What the fuck?” he whispered, running his hands over his fiancé’s face.

“Okay, you’re so far gone, go back to resting,” Watney ordered.

“But I don’t want to. I want to be here with you,” Beck complained.

“I’ll be right here, promise. I’m not going anywhere,” Watney replied.

“Cuddle me?” Beck crooned.

“Think you can move a little?” Watney questioned.

“Mhm,” Beck muttered, shifting to the left carefully.

He made grabby hands at Watney, huffing when he was taking too long to get onto the bed without hurting Beck. Soon enough, they were both comfortable, fitting perfectly on the bed as Beck tucked his head under Watney’s chin and purred like a cat. Watney laughed softly, and wrapped his arms warmly around Beck, pressing a kiss on his forehead, before picking up his hand and admiring the ring. 

“I’ll look after you from now on, I promise,” he murmured, kissing his fiancé’s hand for the final time that night. 

 _Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you_  

 _Sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you_  

 _But in your dreams whatever they be_  

_Dream a little dream of me…_

**Author's Note:**

> Can find me on tumblr: [x-crossbones-x](http://x-crossbones-x.tumblr.com/)


End file.
